


Tangled Webs

by cathadoodledoo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, M/M, Minor Character Death, Spiderman AU, but guess what scaly teenager wreaks havoc, stiles is peter parker, which works because they both have alliterative names
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-25 09:40:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1644149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathadoodledoo/pseuds/cathadoodledoo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles Stilinski is a pretty average teenager. He's awkward, doesn't have a lot of friends, and is in love with a girl who's so out of his league it's not even funny.</p><p>But when he's bitten by a genetically engineered spider during his high school field trip to Argent, Inc. and develops strange powers, his whole life turns upside down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tangled Webs

**Author's Note:**

> The plot was borne out of my desire for Dylan O'Brien to play Spiderman at some point, and also the fact that Stiles is practically the only human in TW. Now he's the special one with powers.
> 
> This is probably going to be really shitty. I'm so sorry.
> 
> I should also point out that I've only seen the first Tobey Maguire movie and both Andrew Garfield movies. I have never read the comics.

"Stiles!  _Stiles!_ Get up! You're going to be late for school!"

Stiles groans and rolls over at the sound of his mother shouting and rapping at his door with her knuckles. 

"If you're not out of bed in ten seconds, there's going to be a bucket of ice water with your name on it," she threatens, and though her voice is muffled behind the door, it sends a spike of fear straight into his heart. He knows from experience that she is  _not bluffing._ He whips the covers off himself, bolts out of bed, and rushes to the door, opening it and staring into his mother's face with a slightly wild-eyed look.

"Good. Now put some clothes on, your stomach is blinding," she teases, though she is paler than her son. "I'll toast you a bagel."

"You're the best!" he calls after her as she walks back to the kitchen in their apartment.

"Don't you forget it," she replies.

He grins and shuts the door, then goes to his bureau and pulls out a pair of worn jeans and a ratty AC/DC T-shirt. He wriggles into them, grabs a pair of mismatched socks and tugs them on, then goes into his bathroom to brush his teeth. When he looks up at himself in the mirror and sees all the toothpaste foam around his mouth, he bares his teeth and acts rabid.

Then he immediately feels embarrassed and thanks God that he's alone.

He elects not to even try to do anything with his hair and just lets it stick up wherever. He's pretty low-maintenance when it comes to that kind of thing.

Stiles goes back into his room, stuffs his scattered schoolwork into his backpack, then lopes down the hall into the kitchen, where he scoops his bagel off the table, presses a kiss to his mom's cheek, and mumbles "Bye, Mom" around the food in his mouth.

It's cloudy, which isn't too uncommon in northern California, but it does nothing to improve Stiles's mood. He's pretty exhausted, which is all Mrs. Miller's fault. Despite what she seems to think, a full hour of math homework is not reasonable.

He's distracted and fidgety at school, which isn't unusual, but it's a thousand times worse because he forgot his Adderall this morning, which also means he's hungrier than usual. He has no lunch money, so he settles for mooching off Scott's tray.

"Do you  _have_ to take my french fries?" his best friend whines. Stiles points a fry at him scoldingly.

"You have food, Mr. McCall. I don't." He pops the fry into his mouth and makes a satisfied grunting noise. When Allison, Scott's girlfriend, and her best friend Lydia join them at the table, Stiles straightens up and flashes a crooked grin at the redhead. He opens his mouth to say something totally suave, but snaps it shut when Lydia's boyfriend Jackson swoops down to kiss her and plants himself in the seat next to her. Stiles looks at Jackson with something that feels like jealousy until the other boy notices him and sneers.

"What do you want, Stilinski?"

"Nothing. Just admiring your coif. Perfect as usual," Stiles replies. Scott sniggers into his cafeteria meatloaf, but he's the only one to laugh. At least one person has Stiles's back.

"Better than that mess you call hair," Jackson snorts, and okay. Now Stiles feels a little self-conscious. Maybe he should've at least combed it this morning.

"Are all you guys going on the field trip tomorrow?" Allison pipes up, clearly trying to change the subject. Everyone nods.

"I'll see you guys there, then. My dad is making me lead one of the groups," she continues.

Allison is part of the Argent family, the founders of a billion-dollar company called Argent, Inc. that leads the field in genetic experimentation. Her grandfather is the head of the company, and her parents are both scientists. Allison is an intern, despite having no interest in genetic engineering. Stiles knows that her parents want her to inherit the company in the future, seeing as she's the only child, but he also knows that her passions lie in archery. It's been the the subject of many late-night talks between her, Scott, and Stiles, and Stiles feels bad for her, he really does, but it's hard for him to sympathize when she's filthy rich and will become filthier rich.

Still, Allison is a friend, and he considers it his duty to stand by her when she's worried.

The rest of the day moves like molasses. Stiles will gouge his eye out with a spork before he has to listen to Mr. Harris talk about covalent bonds again.

At home, he falls asleep at 3 o' clock without starting his homework. His mom pokes her head into his room around dinnertime, but upon realizing that he's asleep, she doesn't say anything. Instead, she marvels at how much he looks like his father when he's asleep. Both of her men look constantly exhausted, as if they're about to pass out, but all the shadows and lines of their faces just smooth out when they sleep.

She indulges herself and looks at him for a little while longer, knowing that this is one of the only times her son looks peaceful.

"Good night, sweetie," she whispers, despite knowing that he can't hear her, and she shuts his bedroom door quietly.


End file.
